


Upon this Hither Shore

by Bill the Pony (TAFKAB)



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Grim horrible wallow in misery, M/M, Sam whumping, seriously i'm not kidding, unfit for human consumption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 02:00:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10452441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TAFKAB/pseuds/Bill%20the%20Pony
Summary: Sam finds no ships waiting at the Grey Havens.  (An old story)





	

**Author's Note:**

> HEED THE WARNINGS in the tags!

_But if of ships I now should sing, what ship would come to me? What ship would bear me ever back across so wide a sea?_ \--Galadriel (Chapter 8, The Fellowship of the Ring, by J. R. R. Tolkien) 

*****

Sam is old. 

His back, once sturdy and broad, that bore the weight of both Ring and Ringbearer, is now bent and frail. 

His hands, once clever and sure, are still hard, but now they are palsied, and they shake when he would work. 

His feet, which once walked with surety along the paths of Mordor, strewn with hot ashes and sharp stones, now falter, and he must lean upon a staff. 

His eyes, which once beheld all things both fair and horrible, have grown dim. Soon he will see nothing. He is old, and his body has failed him, but his heart is still true. 

He leaves his home after dusk, when none will see him. 

*****

The havens are empty. 

The elves who once passed through the Shire on their way to the Havens grew few, and then there were no more, and his heart told him that he must hurry, but there was that which he must do, and those with whom he could not break his troth. 

Now the elves pass no more, and the ships have gone. 

He stands upon the shore and looks out over the curve of the sundering seas. The sea breeze catches his grey cloak, and it streams behind him. There is sand between his toes. He does not notice. 

He is caught in a memory-- water rising to ankle, knee, and chest. Water closing over his head. Frodo's hand. 

The sea sings. 

*****

The water is cold. 

It washes over his feet and pulls the sand from under them as it recedes. He has stood long upon the shore, unmoving, with the gulls crying harshly overhead. There are those to the east who would comfort him, even honor him, should he turn his path away. The Sun is sinking. He wonders if it will find the Undying Lands. 

He begins to walk. The waves batter him, but he does not stop. He thinks of Frodo's hand. 

The waves lift him off his feet; they close over his head and pull him down. 

He does not struggle.


End file.
